Sick
by intergalacticbooty
Summary: Seth Rollins is a pampered and intelligent high school student obsessed with death and murder. He's grown bored of his life, but when a mugging turns into something much more violent, Seth finds meaning in his life once more. Contains age difference, murder, drug use, reckless behavior, sexual content, and more. Cross-posted on wrestlingkinkmeme. Reviews welcomed and encouraged.
1. Chapter 1

Seth always had a rather peculiar taste. But that was normal of talented children. Talented, yes. Sick? Also yes.

The Armenian had been adopted at 3 years old to the McMahon-Helmsley family and his older brother, Randy, never let him forget it. But it didn't matter, because even though he wasn't blood he was the pride of the family. At only 7 years old he mastered several string instruments, from the guitar to the cello, could solve the most complex of equations, read at a doctoral level at 9, could sing centuries old Italian operas with perfect pitch at 10, and developed an affinity for realism and architectural design and realistic portraits by 11 that sold for thousands. Did it all while still keeping his manners, answering 'Yes, ma'am,' and 'No, sir' like a good boy.

The latter stuck with him, the former ones he participated in to appease his surrogate family. A family that told him at age 5 that he kept his birth last name, Rollins, because he had to earn his way into this family. He did that and so much more, but they never did bother switching his name over.

Now, at 18, with a 4.0 GPA since he was old enough to attend schools that used that grading scale, Seth was bored. He was ridiculously intelligent, talented, and adopted by a wealthy family. But none of it meant anything, because none of it was thrilling. None of it was what Seth wanted out of life.

In fact the only thing he truly desired to do in life was to hold up in his room, look up gore on the web, listen to glorious deathcore, and paint beauties of blood and bone and sex, paying no mind to the fact he was a kissless virgin.

Now, at 18, Seth is on a senior class trip and wished deep down inside he could hide back within his room. Disneyland is supposed to be a dream come true, but it's a goddamn nightmare. And to make matters worse his school implemented a three-way buddy system for the trip, with Seth being shackled with Summer and Tyler. A pair of bubbly blondes that locked lips every chance they got, despite insisting they weren't dating.

It was none of his business, regardless, and he kept his distance from them the entire trip. There were some cool things, like the Haunted Mansion, and he even bought himself a set of Mickey Mouse ears, peer tradition. The churros were fucking delicious, too. But soon the sun was waning, and the head teacher sent out a group text informing all students to begin making their way back towards the tour bus, where it would take them back to the hotel. Except Tyler was too damn busy taking selfies with Summer to inform Seth, who had left his cell phone back at the Hilton where he stayed.

"Shit, Ty, baby, what are we gonna do?" Summer said, voice dramatic as per usual. Seth couldn't stop his eye roll if he tried.

"We could just walk back." Seth shrugged nonchalantly, nasally voice an edge of tiredness and irritation.

"And how are we going to find our way back, genius?" Tyler scuffed, peering at him through shoulder length locks.

"Got a phone, don't you? Just turn on your GPS."

"Oh, yeah." The blondes replied.

God, sometimes he swore the two combined still didn't have an IQ of a 100. Seth continued to trail ahead of them despite Tyler being the one with directions, falling lost into his own world as he did sometimes. The world he hid it paintings and landscapes far from preying eyes. That's why he doesn't register the horrified screams and gasps of the blond teens, swiveling around when he hears a deep rasp of a voice address him.

"Against the fuckin' wall, kid. Do I gotta spell it out for ya stupid ass?" Tall, so tall, with a ratty hoodie and leather jacket on, dirty jeans, converse that have to be nearly as old as Seth, and a black and white checked scarf covering everything about his face that hood didn't, save for wild, grey blue eyes. After taking in the person, Seth noticed the gun in his hand. Strong, rough hands that had seen better days. The teen doesn't even attempt to ignore the excited thrill thrumming up his spine. A real fucking gun.

He joined Summer and Tyler against the alley the strange man had motioned them towards. The two were shivering messes, spit and tears falling copiously down and Summer sobbed loudly, causing their assailant to twitch slightly, steadily angling the gun flat at her forehead. Seemed like the only thing that was stable about this guy was his grip. Because his pupils were blown, his voice a snarl of anger and desperation.

"Shut the fuck up, lil' bitch…swear to god." The man looms over them both, the gun mere centimeters away from her.

"Please, please…" Seth was shocked at Tyler's boldness, taking the blond to be a larger sissy than Summer. "…we have money. Not a lot but we have it…you can take it, just…please." Seth remained silent, observing the trembling form of his classmates with a stoic expression.

"Don't want no fuckin' money, you lil' snot…" He growled. Seth fell in love with that voice, impeccably aware of the shiver it sent down his spine that was firmly plastered against dirty brick. "…if I wanted ya goddamn money I woulda took it already…" The gun is retracted for a moment and Seth's heart hammered in his chest. What would this man do to them? What could he want? Was he going to take advantage of Summer? Or did he have something even more sinister in mind?

The snapping of metal and plastic causes the teen to tilt his head back, idly brushing back his own dark, long locks to get a better look at the blade now being twirled through nimble fingers before it snaps straight.

"Nah, not in it for the money, baby…" Seth wished that scarf wasn't in the way, wished he could see the grin that was undoubtedly plastered on the stranger's face. He ran the blade down the trembling teen girl's left cheek, denting in just enough for a path of red to follow.

"Stop, stop!" Tyler shouted, grabbing at the adult male's arm, but soon there was a gun against his head and a bang echoed and there's brain matter mere inches from Seth's feet. He gawked, big brown eyes wide as he sees the life drift from Tyler's shocked blues, mouth a gape as if he was still shouting, blood forming a crude halo, turning blond to a dirty pink. It was more thrilling than Seth could ever imagine, holding his arms defensively over his chest as he backed farther away, retreating a few feet deeper through the alley. It was a dead end, but he needed to gather himself and his thoughts, to truly register he just witnessed his first murder. And he loved it.

"No, oh God, oh GOD!" Summer cried, twisting against the towering wiry form as he grabbed a handful of her hair.

"Too loud, too FUCKING LOUD!" As if the headshot hadn't already put Seth into overdrive, the knife was plunged deep into Summer's jugular, blood spurting every which way as he cut a rough hole in her throat, her heels clinking against the pavement as the man's jeans and hoodie became soaked in red.

Then he started whistling, honest to god whistling and Seth is frozen, his expression one of bewilderment and awe and he notices now that he's hard. So achingly hard and this man who's face he can't even fully seen has made him feel more, meant more to him than anyone else has.

"And then there was one, huh?" That tall form loomed over Seth's, leaning in close as he felt the warmth of his breath against his cheek through the thin scarf. "How come this piggy ain't cryin', huh?" A soft coo it was, a blood soaked petting across his tan flesh. "Mmm, pretty piggy, ain't ya?" God, the smell of the fresh, warm iron rich blood and the lull of this man's voice. Intoxicating. "Can ya talk?" His cheeks were squished together then, light stubble and nose now covered in red.

"Before you kill me…can I see your face?" Said so calmly, so cool and relaxed as Seth always was and the man laughs, deep and hardy in his throat before he steps back, eyeing the younger male with a more analytic gaze. It was still wild, but not the rage and blown look of had while he carved into Summer and shot Tyler dead.

Without another word the man pulled his hood down, revealing a messy mop of auburn locks. Seth could picture the contrast of the hair with his own tan skin as he tugged on it, could imagine how soft it must be despite the mess. And then the scarf is tugged down to reveal a small nose, or at least smaller than Seth's, and a thin line of pretty pink, and breath-taking dimples.

"You're…you're beautiful." Seth stammered, long eyelashes fluttering as the man pushed the gun firmly against his temple. "Thank you, for showing me, sir." There's hesitance then, confusion in those gorgeous droopy blues as his eyebrows drawing together tight. Seth slide his eyes shut, heart loud and blood thrumming underneath the surface of his skin, cock hard and heavy as he is ready to accept his fate.

Except suddenly there isn't a body pressed up against him, the gun never goes off, and he's left staring up at this older male. "You hard, kid?" It's an amused snort, but there's something like nervousness in the male's tone.

"Y-Yeah, I…I am…" It's meek and soft and Seth looks down shyly then, the arousal kicking up a notch as he spots a speckle of blood on his right shoe.

"Fuck." The man hissed then, pulling the safety on as before tucking the gun tightly away. "You fucked up a lil, ain't ya? No sense in me killin' you off…leave you to some gangbangers or somethin'…." It doesn't come out as cold or disgusted as it should, but is a rather playful tease and Seth wants to hear that tone more. "Didn't even shed a fuckin' tear for them…"

"I don't care about them." Seth said matter-of-factly, growing in boldness as he took a step towards the stranger. "I care about you, now."

A snort and the older male rubbed at his collarbone idly, Seth wondering how it would taste to lick the blood from those fingertips. "Heh…should kill ya, really, now that you've seen my face. Shouldn't let you get away with it. But you're somethin' special…aren't ya?"

"I won't tell anyone…I…" Fuck it. He's lived life dull enough as it is and this man speaks promise. The promise for what Seth truly desires. "…take me with you."


	2. Chapter 2

Another snort then and then there's a damp, red hand pushing back Seth's dark hair and the man tsks at him, hovering down and meeting his gaze. "Why should I? Huh?"

He's goading Seth and the teen's eyes waver, staring back down at his feet. This man could easily kill him, he was more than willing to accept that bullet from such a lovely being, but here he was…sparing him. And Seth asked for more. He always was a greedy child. "Because I want to be with you, please, sir." Seth breathed out shakily, but he tightened his jaw, firm as he sat upright. "Take me with you, before…before the cops come, please. I don't want them to find me, sir."

Those brownish red eyebrows knitted together once more and Dean smiled, a strange smile like he had remembered a funny joke before he cocks his gun back, slamming it against Seth's temple.

Sufficient to say, Seth blacked out instantly.

It's dark and cramped and smells of blood and sweat and leather and cigarettes. It's the best scent Seth has ever known and as his vision focuses his heart leaps within his chest. He's horizontal, in the back seat of a trunk from the looks of it and it's still dark out. Vision still hazy he grabs at the truck's floor, finding wrappers and empty beer cans before he retrieves is glasses, slipping them. Oh, he's greeted with a familiar mop of auburn curls and can't help the grin that snaps across his face, undoubtedly showing off his gap.

"T-Thank you…"

"Huh? Oh…" The man jumped, car swerving along the lone road before he swivels his head back, smooth and cool. "…finally up, lil' piggy?"

"Yes, I am." He notices there's still red splattered across the older male, albeit dry, painting his face and shirt and jeans. "Where are we going?"

"Back ta the motel I'm stayin' at….but we gotta get somethin' straight right now." Voice so nonchalant, so calm like he hadn't effectively murdered two of Seth's classmates for reasons still unknown to the teeth. "…you're on borrowed time, kiddo. I don't wanna hear no goddamn complaints. Ya keep your mouth shut, do what I tell you to do, and the moment I get a whiff of any bullshit, it's fuckin' lights out, ya hear?"

Seth smiled then, nodding to himself before replying slowly. "Yes, I understand, sir."

"And stop with the sir shit, for fuck's sake. I ain't ya goddamn teacher or anything. It's Dean."

Oh, Dean. The teen tired the name silently on his tongue, and found it to be the most pleasant name to ever grace his lips. "Nice to meet you, Dean. I'm Seth. Seth Rollins."

They're in the motel parking lot then and Dean skirts into a parking spot, sliding out of the truck easily before yanking the back door open and pulling Seth out by the collar of his shirt. It's a powerful tug and Seth follows easily. He's strong and tall and it's a thrill to the younger male as he half-walks, is half dragged to a hotel room, Dean only letting go to fiddle with the key.

It's a small little dingy room with a stained carpet and stale stench, unlike anywhere Seth has had to sleep but if it's where Dean is staying then it's perfect. The younger male contemplates a way to maybe empty his bank account, though, so his savior can afford a nicer room.

"Shut the goddamn door, kid!" Dean hissed and Seth follows his order quickly, slamming it shut before using all three locks to make sure it stays shut. He stands there awkwardly, before gawking with wide eyes as Dean shucks off his hoodie and jacket, dawn in nothing but a tight little white tank top that leaves nothing to the imagination.

His arms are littered with scars. Some look old, others fresher, and there's track marks from shooting up something. Seth remembered how they looked from googling images of collapsed veins of junkies. But they didn't disgust him and if the Armenian boy had his way, he'd be coating them in kisses. Not that he'd ever kissed anyone, but Dean was more than worthy. And then the tank top is gone and Seth has to suck in a gasp because there's more marks and scars, but even beyond that this man's body is gorgeous.

Waist is even narrower than Seth's, sink pale and prickled and would look so damn good in red. He's gawking, knows that he is but doesn't bother hiding it until Dean snaps his fingers.

"Enjoyin' the show, kid?" He's red then, all flustered and sputtering as Dean slowly creeps towards him and god, what he wouldn't give to touch. To have this man underneath or on top of him, but instead he cowers back, brown gaze cast down. "Oh, don't act all modest now, lil pig…saw you get so hard before, didn't ya? Should've sucked you off right there, hmm?"

"O-Oh god…" Seth breathes, well aware of Dean's warm breath being casted against the top of his head, that creamy expansion of soft chest mere inches away. "…I can't…I've never, um…p-please, s-sir, I mean…Dean, I…I…"

"Shh, sweetheart, shh…" His finger is still red with Summer's dried blood, resting against Seth's bottom lip, thumb hooking down to tilt his head up. "…'s alright...we're gonna have a lot of fun together, right?"

"Y-Yeah."


	3. Chapter 3

"Good, lil piggy…" Dean leans in then, Seth trembling all over as he feels this man's lips against his own. They're soft, taste faintly of copper or iron and what Seth images cigarettes taste like. It's innocent at first, but is soon filled with lust and heat and Dean slips his tongue inside, mapping the cavern of Seth's mouth.

Seth is hard, Dean's strong thigh pushed between his legs and he's shivering, feeling like he'll come at any moment. "T-That was my first kiss…"

The strange man tilts his head at that, a bizarre twitch of a movement before he chuckles, petting down the side of Seth's face. "Some crazy shit…cute lil' thing like you? Mmm…should been fucked a long time ago, yeah?"

Seth doesn't even hesitate, nodding rapidly which is greeted by another chuckle before Dean peels himself off of that boy's frame, motioning to the room behind him. "Pack up my shit, kid. I'ma take a shower in the meantime, get all this blood off of me, and you better have my shit t'gether 'fore I'm done, aight?" Greeted with another nod and then Dean is gone, Seth being greeted by the sound of the showerhead turning on and he's scrambling, putting everything up that Dean has. A two dingy pairs of jeans, cigarettes, a few small baggies full of white powder, a couple of unused syringes, some tank tops and a hoodie and leather jacket that have certainly seen better days.

It makes the teen grimace because someone as precious and beautiful as Dean, someone who makes him so hard and makes life worth living, deserves better than dingy old clothes or to pump himself full of drugs. However, he manages to get everything together in time for Dean to arrive out his shower, unruly locks slicked back and blood soaked clothing has been exchanged for fresh, yet still dirty, pair of jeans with the thighs torn and Seth is pretty sure it isn't a fashion statement. Sadly, the older male's chest is now covered in a t-shirt, but it's faded and looks soft to the touch as he shrugs his stained converses on.

"All done, s-Dean…everything is packed up here." Seth says with a toothy, gaped grin and Dean chuckles, before tugging at the back of the boy's shirt to drag him out of the hotel room. He does it rather quickly and Seth doesn't question it until they're already back in Dean's truck. "What's that smell?" It's burning, something is burning and Seth is alarmed and Dean smacks him over the back of the head.

"Stop askin' questions, piggy. You'll know what ya need ta know, capisce?" He nods is response, making sure to keep his mouth shut as the motel room goes up in flames, Dean pulling out the driveway faster than Seth is pretty sure he's ever seen a vehicle go in his life.

Several hours past and Seth begins to nod off, his head dazing against the windshield of the truck as they drive off to god knows where. Dean told him to stop asking questions, so he won't, but when the man's stomach starts to growl Seth is at attention.

"Fuckin'…shit…yo, kid, check the glovebox, see if I got any bills or somethin'…fuckin' starvin'." Seth does as such but finds nothing but a half drunken 40, some matches, a knife, and the same handgun from before. He shakes his head and Dean growls at that. "Goddammit." Fists on the steering wheel and the younger male lays a gentle hand on Dean's thigh, brushing against some of the skin not covered by rough, worn jean material and instantly the older male seems to still, almost relax, and it fills Seth with a bizarre sense of pride.

"I have money."

"Don't want no fuckin' handouts."

"It's not a handout, Dean, please…I…whatever you want or need, I can get it for you."

"Like hell you fuckin' can, kid. You ain't nothin' but a squirt."

Seth sucks in a breath then, hating to do this but he knows it's the only way Dean will listen to him, will take his claim seriously. "You know the McMahon-Helmsley family? The business motifs…worth literally billions?"

"Sure, everyone's hard of them swarmy rich fucks."

"And how they adopted a kid a while back?" Seth points to his own face then and Dean pulls over with a screeching halt, undoubtedly causing those behind him to curse obscenities but he doesn't really give a fuck as he gaps at Seth's face.

"Ya gotta be kiddin' me, kid…I should kick ya ass out right now, leave you here before those fucks come lookin' for me."

"They won't find me. Even if I get into my bank account, I'm an adult now…they don't have access to anything. I…I can get you anything and everything you need, Dean. Just please…let me help you."

He leans forward then, taking Dean's hands in his own and the older male is nearly vibrating as Seth hesitantly leans into a kiss.

"…'ight."


End file.
